Disclaimer: I only own Grace and Ann.

I know a lot of people liked Voices and wanted me to continue. I figured I would make it into a series.

The dim light of a nearby lamp illuminated the darkened room with a soft yellow-orange glow. A tired Bobby Finstock sat in a blue glider with his daughter cradled in his arms as they moved back and forth. Over his left shoulder was a stained burping cloth that matched the green onesie on the sleeping infant nestled quietly against his body. This little girl was his world. Bobby kept his eyes focused on Grace in an attempt to stay awake as he smoothed her soft strands of brown hair. Grace's brow knitted, her lips puckering while she kicked her legs.

"Shh, shh, shh," Bobby shushed, "no, you're okay. Dad's gotcha."

He had finally gotten her to sleep and he hoped he wouldn't see her beautiful hazels for at least another few hours. Lately, four-month-old Grace had become extremely colicky. In the absence of his flighty wife, Bobby was left with the task of staying up until four in the morning rocking, burping, swaddling, and singing to Grace. Nothing he did would help her stop. Some nights he felt that the only thing that ended her crying was her own exhaustion. Bobby glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only midnight. He smiled and got to his feet.

"I love you," he kissed her forehead. "Sleep tight, Grace."

Carefully, he walked towards the crib and placed her inside. He cranked the dial on the mobile three times, holding his breath when the music began to play. He was relieved to see that Grace continued to sleep. Bobby walked out of her room, shut the door behind him, and sighed. It was only midnight. If he went to bed now, he could probably get at least six hours of sleep.

"Bobby-bear!"

Bobby jumped and cringed at the voice of his wife. She had scared the ever-living out of him. He never heard her come into their house and he mentally kicked himself for not having an alarm system installed.

"I'm back, Bobby! You missed me, didn't you pumpkin?"

He sighed. Bobby was beyond tired, and the idea of dealing with his wife right now wasn't exactly ideal, especially since she'd abandoned him and their daughter for this long. Bobby was used to her leaving him off and on before they were married. He thought that she would stop when she told him they were expecting and agreed to marry him. He had never been so wrong in his life.

Bobby placed a finger to his lips. "Are you insane? Shh! This is the earliest I've been able to get her to sleep in weeks. Weeks, Ann. Of course, you'd know that if you were home with Grace and me instead of being off in freakin' Nevada doing God knows what."

Ann Lake-Finstock stood in the hallway, her hands on her curvy hips. Her dark brown hair was in a short bob that revealed a tattoo of a peacock feather. Her green eyes were narrowed. "She's asleep? Pumpkin, I thought you said I could have a chance when I got home."

"Yeah, I did. Three months ago. Grace is a baby, Ann. She can be a bit unpredictable at times," said Bobby, before muttering, "kind of like her mother."

"She's sound asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in that case..." Ann stepped closer to Bobby, placed her hands on his chest, and leaned into him expectantly.

He held his hands up defensively, "Whoa, what are you doing? Is this why you're here? Is-Is this why you came back?"

Ann's disappearance was a cliche. She told Bobby that she was going to pick up some diapers and other things at Babies "R" Us. Hours later, he got a phone call: "In Nevada. Um, don't know when I'll be back." That was it. He knew he should have filed for a divorce then, but he didn't. Instead, he made sure he put all of his love into raising Grace, hoping that she wouldn't notice the absence of one of her parents. At month two, Bobby's mom told him to divorce her, but he didn't. Now, Ann was back and, while he was glad to see her, he honestly just wanted her to leave.

"Well, I'm here to see my husband and my daughter. Seeing as how my daughter's sleeping, I was thinking––"

"No. Look, I-I'm tired and, no, I'm not just saying it because I don't want to have sex with you right now. I'm actually really tired. Grace is a lot of work, especially when you're a single parent."

"But you're not a single parent. Her mama is here."

Bobby scoffed, "Yeah, now you are. But like I said, a baby is a lot of work when you're a single parent."

Ann gaped at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what that means. Now, if you want to continue this conversation, we need to do it away from the nursery. Kid's been a light sleeper lately."

Bobby walked away from his wife and headed towards their bedroom. All he could think about was getting to bed, sleeping through the night, and maybe actually being in a semi-decent mood for lacrosse practice for a change. With some sleep he'd be able to clearly think through Ann's reappearance.

Ann followed him, "Bobby, don't walk away from me."

Once they were behind the door of their bedroom, he sat on their bed. Ann stood by the door with her arms folded.

Bobby ran a hand over his face and asked, "Where the hell you been, Ann?"

"Don't act like that, Bobby-bear."

"No, you don't get to call me 'Bobby-bear' anymore. Don't call me 'Pumpkin', either. You know I hate that name."

"You always liked it before."

"I told you several times not to call me that before we were married, and a few times after. And anyway, I have a right to act upset over your idea to leave for months after you just had Grace. How was wherever you were? Was it more fun than, oh, I don't know, taking care of your daughter and being home with your husband?"

"You're just mad that I left you," said Ann. "Stop making it about Grace. All I hear is Grace this and Grace that. Robert, that's not fair. I needed some time away. I just had a baby. You're being selfish."

"Me?" He laughed, "What about you? Who just leaves their one-month-old? I can get over you leaving me. What I'm mad about is you leaving Grace. And yeah I do talk about Grace a lot. Why? Because that kid became more important than me the day I heard her first cry. Yeah, I'll admit it was hard to accept it moment you told me you were pregnant. But I quickly realized that Grace was going to need me and I was going to have to start putting her needs before mine. Why? Because that's what parents do. You can't just leave and run off to Nevada."

Ann clapped her hands, "Wow, nice speech, Coach. What are you trying out for Father-of-the-Year? Look, Bobby, I took some time away because I needed to. I want to see stuff while I'm young and can have fun. I can't do that with a kid. Why are you making such a big deal about it? I'm here now. I don't see a problem."

Bobby stared at his wife. After a moment, he shook his head and stood up. He pulled back the blankets on the bed and lied down.

"What are you doing?" asked Ann.

"Hit the light. I'm going to bed, Ann. I have to work in a few hours."

"So what, you're done? You're just going to stop talking in the middle of a discussion?"

"Yeah. There's nothing more to talk about. I'm done."

...

"C'mon Grace, please?"

Bobby Finstock bounced the wailing baby girl in his arms as he paced the floor of his living room. He glanced at the clock and noticed that the nine-month-old had cried for the past two hours. He'd tried feeding her, changing her, but nothing would make her stop. Bobby wondered if Grace was upset because he was upset. His mom had said that babies can pick up on things like when their parents are nervous or unhappy and, at her age, can get nervous about other people. Maybe that's what was wrong with Grace. After all, he was really unhappy that Ann was back after another disappearance. Last time she left, it was the night she came back from Nevada. They argued and she left when he fell asleep. She ran off to Florida. He wondered where she got her money for these trips, and was thankful that they didn't have joint checking. Maybe Grace also felt uneasy around Ann because she didn't recognize her and Ann wasn't her messy-haired and wide-eyed dad.

Bobby sat down on the couch, placed his daughter against his shoulder, and began to gently pat her back. Grace's cries began to die down.

"Finally."

"Let me hold my daughter!" Ann reached for Grace. "Give her here."

Bobby watched his wife grab their daughter out of his arms and take her into her own. Grace's face began to twist with discomfort. He opened his mouth to warn Ann to be more careful not to upset Grace, but Ann snapped that she knew what she was doing.

"She's my kid, Robert!"

"Yeah, well, Grace is mine too. She's ours. And try not to—" Grace let out a scream and began to cry. He sighed, "Look what you did."

"Me?" Ann gave Grace back to her husband. "The kid is defective."

Bobby shook his head as Grace calmed down in her father's arms. He sat down on the floor and Ann sat beside him.

She made a face. "See! The kid likes you more."

"No, Grace doesn't." Bobby placed Grace back in her mother's arms. "See?"

"Da-da! Da! Da! Da-da!" babbled Grace.

Ann held Grace up under her arms and said, "Say 'ma-ma'."

"No-no." Grace leaned backward and looked at Bobby with wide hazels. Smiling at him, she giggled and sat up straight. She clapped her chubby hands together, before hitting her mother on the nose.

Bobby sighed. "No, Grace. Don't hit. That's not very nice. That's your mommy."

"No-no." Grace made a face, grimacing as if she had just been given a spoonful of strained peas.

"Yes," he nodded, "she's your ma-ma."

She stared at Ann for a few moments, then turned towards Bobby, opening and closing her hands. "Da! Da-da, da-da."

When he didn't respond, she squealed 'da' as loud as she could. Ann cringed. Bobby was used to it by now, though he wondered if I was normal that he could sometimes hear his ears ring after one of her screams. Ann placed Grace on the floor and watched her crawl to her dad.

"Da."

He picked up Grace. "I hear you, I hear you."

Ann looked at Bobby fiercely, "Why is she saying that? Why is she screaming for you? What's wrong with her, is she stupid or something?"

"Okay, first, she's not stupid. Second, she has a name, her name's Grace. Remember?"

"Why isn't she calling me 'ma-ma'?"

"I don't know." Bobby set Grace on the floor and watched her crawl. "Maybe it's because she doesn't really recognize you as a face she sees all the time. "

"Are you saying that I'm not around? Because I am around."

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious right now? Ann, be reasonable. You're rarely here. Grace knows it. I've been taking care of Grace since the first time you just decided you weren't coming home and that you were going to leave and not come back for months." He let out a laugh and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm even having this conversation again."

"She just doesn't know what she's saying." Ann shook her head. "She just calls everything 'da-da'."

"Actually, she doesn't," said Bobby. "If you were around more, you'd know that since the time she turned six months, she's called me 'da-da.' If she wants a bottle she says 'ba-ba'. Everything else is just ooh's and babbling and crap. Lately, now that she's older, she'll say 'uh-oh', 'cha', and wave for 'bye-bye'. Then, 'no-no'."

"Uh-oh!"

Bobby immediately looked at Grace, who sat on her bottom. "Uh-oh, Grace. Did you fall?"

"Cha."

He watched Grace grip the couch, pull herself up, and fall. "Uh-oh, Grace!"

Grace clapped, "Uh-oh, da-da! Uh-oh!"

Ann got to her feet and walked towards the door. Bobby stood, scooped up Grace, and followed his wife.

"Where are you going, Ann?" Bobby asked, his heart sinking. He already knew the answer and it hurt him that she kept doing this to Grace.

Ann lifted her bag over her shoulder, "I'm thinking Texas maybe or New Mexico. I don't know."

"When are you coming back?"

Bobby watched Ann open the door and slam it behind her. For the third time, she'd left him with their daughter.

"Uh-oh," said Grace.

He had a deep sinking feeling in his gut. He knew what he had to do. He knew he didn't want Grace growing up knowing that her mom could walk away at any minute. He knew he didn't want Grace to get older and blame herself for Ann leaving randomly one day. He knew he didn't want Grace to continue hearing them argue. He knew what he had to do was what was best for Grace and, probably, what was best for Ann.

Bobby kissed Grace's cheek, "Come on, Gracie. Daddy's got some phone calls to make."

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